


That Thing From '37

by sparkly_butthole



Series: That Thing From '37 [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Asgardian Liquor (Marvel), Drunken Steve Rogers, Drunken silliness, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Mutual Pining, OC death, Sex Work, other Avengers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 07:18:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18069002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkly_butthole/pseuds/sparkly_butthole
Summary: Steve and Bucky are drunk, and that means story time at Avengers Tower.





	That Thing From '37

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I listened to you guys and did the thing. Here is the long-awaited sequel to Never Have I Ever. I hope you enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to Beta Extraordinaire,NurseDarry, for helping me out. All hail!

“It was a day like any other. A Monday, actually - Bucky and I’d spent the weekend turnin’ tricks, had quite a bit of cash. Enough to stretch the whole week, anyway. We were lounging around this old bar - pretty safe place, all things considered. The bartender had an in with the local police. I don’t know how he kept ‘em out, but they never bothered us there. We spent a lot of time there.”

 

Steve looks down at his hands, intertwined with Bucky’s. Bucky gives him an encouraging squeeze. 

 

“Well,” he continues. “That old guy who ran the place died a few years later. Just before Bucky went off to war, and… well, you know what happened to me. To  _ us _ . Anyway, I’m not sure what happened to the place afterwards. Hope there was still a place for queers to go, you know? Someplace safe like that.”

 

“That must’ve been rough,” Tony says, serious for once, before he hiccups. 

 

“Well, we were lucky. Never got caught. Not until that night.” 

 

Everyone’s leaning forward in their chairs, all ears now. The mood in the room is anticipatory, attentive, despite the fact that it’s probably spinning for half of them. Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, a whore? This is bound to be a hell of a tale, and they’re the only ones who will ever hear it. 

 

“Anyway,” Bucky says, picking up the thread, “It was a Monday night, we were just lounging around, and this guy walks up to us… charmer, easy as you please, says… “

 

\---

 

“Anyone sittin’ here, fellas?” 

 

Bucky looks at Steve, and Steve shrugs. Sure, if he’s buyin’. A bit more money can’t hurt. 

 

The guy eyes them appreciatively. “You boys are looking mighty fine this evening. Especially you - what’s your name?” He reaches out to finger Steve’s collar. Steve clears his throat and backs away a little bit.

 

“Roger. Roger Grant.”

 

“Well, it’s pleasant to meet you, Mr. Grant. And who’s your friend here?”

 

“Jimmy,” Bucky says, not waiting for Steve to introduce him. He can introduce himself, thank you very much.

 

“Well, then. Jimmy.” The name rolls off his tongue like a filthy secret. “Let me offer you boys a little somethin’. I got a studio, ways up the road here. I’d like to offer you a bit of money… more than a bit.” The unnamed man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of cash. Steve’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “That’s what I got for you. All yours. If you comply, that is.”

 

“What’s the catch?” Bucky asks suspiciously. 

 

“No catch. Just come to my place, lie down and let me have a look at you, then we all fuck. Wham, bam, thank you - well, you get the picture.”

 

“And that’s it?” Steve asks. 

 

“That’s it.” 

 

“Well, can I have your name first?”

 

“Name’s Gilligan. Irish immigrant, just like you fine boys.”

 

“How could you tell we were immigrants?” Bucky asks, once again feeling suspicious. Something about this just ain’t sittin’ right with him.

 

“Look at that hair. Golden blond like sunlight. It’s somethin’, ain’t it?” 

 

_ Yeah, pal, it is… and I don’t like the thought of you puttin’ your grubby hands on it. _

 

Out loud, he says, “And me?”

 

“Well, you got the creamy Irish skin, too. Beautiful grey eyes. Yep, you boys are picture perfect. I’d send a postcard along to grandma if I could get a picture of you two.”

 

“Yeah, no, ain’t happenin’, pal. We’ll come, but only for a trick. No funny business.” Bucky looks at Steve to make sure he’s on board. Steve nods his head slightly: yeah, they’re good. 

 

“It’s a deal,” Gilligan smiles, all teeth, and Bucky breathes in, preparing to sell his soul to the devil for good this time. There’s no way Steve will get through this without knowing just how Bucky feels about him. And that’s terrifying, but they can’t afford to turn down this kind of money. Who knows how long they’ll stay lucky for?

 

“Lead the way.”

 

“Aye-aye, gorgeous.”

 

Ugh. Bucky’s gonna be sick before he even gets there. 

 

***

 

The place is run-down. Nothing at all like Bucky would expect a john like this to be living in. It’s dirty, filthy even, two rooms and a claw-foot tub in the kitchen, just like their own place. It’s nothing they’re not used to, living as cramped as they do in their own Brooklyn tenement, but it’s still disconcerting. How can the man have so much money and not have a better home?

 

Man, Bucky’s got a bad feeling about all this.

 

“Well, young gentlemen,” the guy - Gilligan - says to them as they stand awkwardly in the kitchen/ living room combo, “go ahead and get undressed. I’ll be back shortly.” He turns right around and leaves them to their own devices.

 

“That’s it?” Bucky wonders aloud. “Somethin’s odd about this guy.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve mutters. “He’s payin’ two young men to have a three-way with him.”

 

Bucky turns to Steve and sighs. “You know we’ve been around people weirder than that. Slept with ‘em, even.”

 

“Honestly, Buck, I try not to think about it.”

 

Bucky wants to comfort Steve, wrap his arms around his skinny, bony shoulders, rub his thumbs along the side of his crooked spine, but he doesn’t. This will be awkward enough as it is without him gettin’ all sappy with his best pal.

 

“Well, I guess we might as well get undressed. Get this over with.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, and starts to strip. Bucky tries not to look at him, he really does - but he has a feeling they’re going to be made to fuck each other soon enough, and there’s no point in being shy about it. 

 

But he has to know - before it happens. “You sure you’re okay with this, Stevie?” he asks softly. 

 

“Yeah. I’m okay,” Steve says, meeting his eyes squarely. “Ain’t like we ain’t seen each other like this before.”

 

Bucky laughs, despondent. “Not quite like this. And we ain’t gonna be just seein’ each other.” They can’t come back from this. Bucky won’t be able to, anyway. He’ll know what it’s like to be with Stevie, his best guy, somethin’ he’s wanted before he even knew what it was to want. How will he ever be able to forget it? 

 

Somehow, it’s Steve that comes to the rescue, Steve who calms Bucky’s nerves. 

 

“Buck,” he murmurs from right next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, “It’s gonna be alright. We’ll get through it and out the other side just like we always do. Together.”

 

Bucky smiles down at him and grabs Steve’s hand in his own, then squeezes tightly. “Got lucky when I met you, you damn punk.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Now take your clothes off, Barnes.” 

 

“Yes, sir,” Bucky says, giving Steve a wink, back to his old charming self. God, but he’s gonna need a drink after this. They’ll be able to afford a fancy one, even. 

 

They’re naked and pointedly not looking at each other when Gilligan comes back into the room. He whistles and beckons them over to him, waving his hand to position them so that they’re standing in front of him and on display. Bucky’s been with a lot of johns in his time, but he’s never felt this humiliated before. 

 

And the worst thing is, it’s making him hard. He hopes to high heaven that Steve doesn’t notice.  _ Fuck. _

 

***

 

“I always wondered about that, but never had the courage to ask.”

 

“What do you mean?” Bucky asks.

 

“How you got hard so quick,” Tony responds before Steve can. 

 

Bucky looks over at Steve, wearing a terrified expression. “You knew I was hard even then?”

 

“Bucky,” Steve sighs like he’s talking to a toddler, “I was paying attention to the state of your dick every single chance I got back then.”

 

Everybody laughs except Bucky, because  _ damn _ , Steve was more of a horndog than Bucky ever knew.

 

“And you don’t now?”

 

“Of course I do,” Steve tells him with a wink and a soft caress through his jeans. Bucky gasps and everyone glances at each other with wide eyes. Apparently, the Asgardian alcohol hasn’t worn off just yet, even with Steve’s metabolism. “Hasn’t changed since I hit puberty.”

 

“You pervert,” Bucky says, still floored. Or ‘shook,’ maybe. He’s unsure of the proper vocabulary now, it changes so often. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve been together long before ‘38!” 

 

Steve shrugs. It was a long time ago, after all. “Didn’t realize you felt the same.”

 

“Of course I felt the same, you damn lug!”

 

Instead of answering with words, Steve leans in for a gentle kiss. It’s barely open-mouthed, but it leaves Bucky, in his alcohol-addled state, hungry for more. He makes a sad noise when Steve pulls away, and the others laugh again.

 

“Ung,” he says eloquently. 

 

“‘Ung’ indeed,” Steve’s smug ass responds. “Anyway, we were telling a story.”

 

“Yes, continue!” Clint says, raising his drink so quickly it sloshes all over his wrist. Natasha rolls her eyes as she cleans him up with a towel that Bucky suspects she brought along just for such a situation.

 

Steve chuckles a bit before sobering. A bit. Enough to continue the story, at least.

 

“So… I was used to a lot of things by then…”

 

***

 

Steve’s used to a lot of things. Being called a whore, and a fairy. Being fucked in alleys, up against walls, in dingy, dirty rooms. Visiting his mother’s grave and crying, bawling his eyes out about the kind of sinnin’ he’s been part of. At the same time, it’s the only way he and Bucky can think of to keep a roof over themselves and food in their stomachs, what with work dryin’ up like it has. Even Bucky’s dad got fired from his job. The Barnes family can no longer fill in the gaps when the two of them can’t make ends meet. He’s learned to accept it and face forward, hoping that soon, they’ll no longer have to do this.

 

What Steve is emphatically  _ not _ used to is standing naked next to his best friend, the one he’s been in love with for years now, getting ready to fuck him, or get fucked by him, or watch him fuck someone else. Maybe all three. He - little Stevie Rogers, the rock of Bucky Barnes’ chaotic life - stands shaking in his birthday suit, and tries to hide the nervousness from his best friend. Tries to hide the anticipation, too, knowing that he’ll get what he’s always wanted, even if it’s not quite how he’d imagined it. 

 

Gilligan, who is the creepiest man Steve’s ever laid eyes on (and he’s been around the block a time or two), commands them to stay still as he moves closer. Steve stares straight ahead as the man reaches down to fondle his genitals with callused hands: soft, sensitive cock first, making Steve twitch, and then his balls. He swallows and closes his eyes, imagining… well, he doesn’t have to imagine Bucky right next to him. He just wishes he could reach out and grab his hand without it being weird. 

 

Bucky’s next. Steve surreptitiously watches from the corner of his eye as Gilligan touches Bucky, running a hand down his toned chest and abs to fondle his surprisingly hard cock. Steve has seen it, of course, but never like this, never erect. Never this big, bigger than he’d imagined. He hates Gilligan just for the fact that he gets to handle Steve’s best friend like this while Steve doesn’t. He hates everybody who’s ever touched Bucky like this, all the johns he’s taken in the toilet and alleyways and weird, creepy basements. 

 

Once Gilligan is satisfied, he removes his hands from Bucky’s body and Steve watches Bucky sigh in relief, shoulders sagging. He wants more than ever to reach out and touch his best friend, just a quick reassurance that he doesn’t have to go through this alone. But he takes a deep breath and forces his attention forward, mostly because he’s not sure how this man will take it, if it’d be a deal-breaker for them to comfort each other like that. Steve wouldn’t put it past him.

 

Gilligan grins at them, once more showing a row of sparkling white teeth. “Well now, boys, I’m sure you’d like to know what I want to happen here.”

 

“Half the money first,” Bucky says, voice firm and eyes hard.

 

Gilligan chuckles. “Feisty one, aren’t we? Got half right here, puttin’ it right in your pants pocket.” He bends down to place the money - Steve can’t see exactly how much, but it looks like a lot - right into Bucky’s discarded clothing. “Rest afterward. Satisfied?”

 

Bucky nods grudgingly. 

 

“As I was saying. I want to see the two of you together first. I don’t care who’s in who, or how you get each other there. Lick, suck, eat each other out, do what you want. Just put on a show for me, got it? And then I want you to fuck each other’s brains out.”

 

Steve does his best to swallow the fear and is pleasantly surprised when his voice comes out steady. “And what will you be doing?”

 

“Watching, at least to start. Wanna see you get each other off ‘fore I get involved. I want you soft when I fuck you. I like it when you don’t enjoy yourself, you get me?”

 

_ Jesus Christ. _ He spares a glance at Bucky, but Bucky’s staring straight ahead still. His clenched jaw is the only thing that shows how disgusted he is by this whole thing. Somethin’ ain’t right here; Steve just isn’t sure if it’s this guy’s sick fetishes or something more sinister.

 

“Time to get to work. Have at it. Ain’t got all day.”

 

They finally turn toward each other, and Steve is happy to see that Bucky is just as nervous about this part as he is. Both of them are experienced enough to know how this goes, but with his best friend, what is the protocol? It’s gotta be different than with a customer, that goes without saying.

 

He can tell Bucky’s thinking similar thoughts. His eyes are wide, and his hands are stiff at his sides, body unnaturally still like he’d been in the middle of somethin’ and was frozen halfway through. 

 

_ Bucky, _ Steve wills,  _ we can do this. We can do anything as long as we’re together. _

 

As if he’d heard him, Bucky gets with the program. He straightens, clears his throat, and steps forward to take Steve’s hand. Startled by the sudden confidence, Steve looks up and sees devastation, the feeling of breaking something that cannot be fixed made manifest in cool grey eyes. He also sees determination, though, and finds it within himself to mirror it. And something else that Steve doesn’t want to think about too much, lest he find himself hoping for something he can never have. 

 

Bucky leads him to the couch with a questioning glance at Gilligan, who is sitting in a chair grabbed from the kitchen table, legs spread and pants around his thighs. His cock is half-hard, an ugly, chubby thing with no real future to speak of. Steve can see why he’d want two young, attractive boys to play with.

 

Bucky gently pushes him down on his back. His weight is comforting as he settles above him. The look in his eyes is tender. Part of Steve wants to grit his teeth and yell that  _ I ain’t a dame, Buck, I’ve done this before _ , but part of Steve is also broken into pieces by the gentleness of it. At least there’s no pity. He’s never once gotten pity from Bucky.

 

“You gonna bottom or am I? I’ll follow your lead,” Bucky asks under his breath.

 

“Kiss him,” Gilligan says.

 

Fire comes into Bucky’s eyes then, and Steve gets the ridiculous urge to laugh, just like he does in church when his best friend makes sinful faces during sermons whenever he’s bored. 

 

He sobers up quickly, though, as Bucky leans in and smashes their lips together. Steve’s seen him kiss girls before, and it’s nothin’ like this. This is stilted, awkward. Even though Bucky’s hard against his hip, it’s like he’s not interested. 

 

Even if it’s not real, and even though it breaks his heart into fragments that may never heal, they have to make this convincing if they want the money. So Steve takes the initiative. He wraps his arms around Bucky and pulls him close, kisses him with all the know-how he has. His skin flushes and his heart starts racing doubletime, sending sharp stabs of pain through his chest, when Bucky moans into his mouth. Steve finds himself getting hard embarrassingly quickly, especially when Bucky takes over and  _ finally _ kisses him like he means it. 

 

Steve is so,  _ so _ into this, thrusting up against Bucky’s hot body like he can’t hold back, like it’s all he’s ever wanted, because it is. And, if he’s not mistaken, Bucky wants it too. On some level, anyway, even if it’s just for the love of money. 

 

Steve is starting to think it might be more than that, though.

 

Then that creep Gilligan speaks up again, ruining the moment. “Suck him. Get that little prick in your mouth and give him the best damn suckjob you’ve ever given. I’ll even give you a bonus if you’re good enough.”

 

Bucky hangs his head, shame written all over his face. This experience will forever be tainted by the man directing them, and they both know it, but Steve suddenly feels serene in the midst of it. Seeing Bucky like that… it hurts. So much that Steve knows he has to take the lead here, has to show Bucky that no matter what, it still means something to  _ him _ . Tainted though it may be, he’s determined to enjoy the moment, just like his mama always taught him, God rest her soul. 

 

Internally rolling his eyes at the fact that he’s thinking about his mother right now, he grabs Bucky’s head with both hands and pulls him down for another kiss. He deepens it right away, biting Bucky’s lower lip before letting it go. Like:  _ hey, you mook _ . Like:  _ I’m right here. Not goin’ anywhere.  _ Bucky doesn’t meet his eyes, but Steve can tell by the minute shift in his body that he’s gotten the idea. 

 

With an odd look that is half-heated and half-ashamed, Bucky goes to town.

 

***

 

“So, wait a minute… this guy wanted you soft when he fucked you? Are you kidding me?”

 

The word ‘fucked’ sounds odd coming from Sam’s mouth. Probably not as much as it does when he says it, but still. 

 

“No,” Bucky says. “This guy was somethin’ else. I’d never met someone more fucked-up in my life ‘til then, and I’d been with a lot of guys. A  _ lot _ ,” he repeats, stretching his arms out to encompass the sheer number. “Really a shame he wasn’t the most fucked-up I’ve met since then. I mean, compared to the bastards at Hydra, he was a fucking… what do you call it, a normie.”

 

“Language,” Steve admonishes, then hiccups. Everybody laughs at him again, because they’re jerks. 

 

“What, normie?”

 

Steve just rolls his eyes.

 

“So what happened next?” Clint asks, excited enough to spill even more of his drink. Natasha wordlessly wipes him off again. 

 

“I sucked Steve off… well, to the edge, anyway,” Bucky responds plainly.

 

A whoop sounds from Steve’s left. “And how was it? Details!” Tony says.

 

A sly grin, one that Steve is intimately familiar with, crosses Bucky’s face. “Ask, and I shall deliver.”

 

***

 

Bucky doesn’t bother kissing down Steve’s belly, licking and sucking his nipples, taking his time the way he wants to. Gilligan had asked for him to give Steve a suckjob, and that’s what Bucky’s going to do. And he’s going to make it the best suckjob Steve’s ever gotten. 

 

He swallows Steve down in one go; Steve’s not big, though he’s longer than the guy paying them. It’s no problem for Bucky, who’d never had a gag reflex and learned early on how to make a guy tremble with his mouth. His tongue works the underside of Steve’s prick, licking along the vein on the upstroke and teasing the head when he pulls off. Steve is uncircumcised, unlike him, and as always, Bucky finds his foreskin fascinating. He spends time licking inside it, stretching it with his tongue, making Steve writhe and moan and throw his head back. 

 

Bucky knows that Steve wants to force his head down, to take advantage of everything Bucky is offering, but he stays his hand, probably because Gilligan will want to watch him break into pieces. 

 

_ Later _ , Bucky thinks, nonsensically. They’re not doing this again, are they?

 

Internally, he shrugs. Maybe they will, maybe they won’t. In the meantime, Bucky’s sucking the love of his life’s cock, and he devotes all his attention to that. 

 

After a few minutes of the best treatment Bucky’s got, Steve starts thrusting upwards, unable to help himself. Bucky redoubles his efforts, wanting Steve to see stars, but just before he’s about to come, body taut like a bowstring and mouth making sounds so erotic Bucky is close even though he hasn’t touched himself at all, Gilligan whistles loudly.

 

“Enough!” he commands. Bucky pulls off with a  _ pop _ , noting with detachment the trail of spit between his mouth and Steve’s red, swollen cock. “I want to see you fuck.” Gilligan’s own cock is dark, flushed purple with blood; Bucky watches as he squeezes the base of it tight, stopping his own orgasm. He knows that the two of them must make quite a sight, and that thought makes him absurdly proud.

 

Steve pulls Bucky back up and kisses him, probably tasting his own pre-come. It’s something the both of them are used to by now.

 

“What do you want?” Bucky asks. “Tell me and I’ll do it.”

 

Steve, still trembling from nearly coming in Bucky’s mouth, takes a deep breath. “I want you in me,” he murmurs, somehow shy. 

 

***

 

“I was not shy!” Steve says indignantly. “You just got done sucking my dick, Barnes. How could I be shy?”

 

Bucky hoots a laugh. “You looked like a thirteen-year-old learning about sex for the first time, Rogers.”

 

“That sounds about right,” Clint says, though Natasha’s giving them both a considering look.

 

“Whatever,” Steve says petulantly, and Bucky pats his leg before going back to the story.

 

***

 

Bucky doesn’t waste time. He’d like to drag this out, really make love to Steve the way he deserves, the way they  _ both _ deserve, but it’s not, and can never be lovemaking if the john is watching. The lovey-dovey stuff can wait, though he despises the necessity. 

 

But that look Steve had given him? Yeah, this is going to happen again. There’s no doubt in his mind now.

 

He flips Steve onto his stomach, rearranging his body so that his back is arched and his face is in the couch cushion. Steve’s moaning into the pillow before Bucky even gets a finger in him. He wants this. Even Gilligan must see that. And indeed, Bucky can hear Gilligan making soft noises to his right, his cock slick with pre-come and writing a wet, disgusting symphony of its own.

 

_ Eww,  _ Bucky thinks, and concentrates on loving Steve the best he can.

 

And he does. He’s quick but thorough in preparing his best friend, and takes it slow when he enters him. Steve never makes a noise of discomfort, just lets Bucky in like he was born to be there. He’s tight and he’s hot, and Bucky does everything he can to make this the best sex of Steve’s life, the same way he’d sucked him. And when he hits that magic spot inside Steve, even the pillow can’t stifle the noises his best friend makes.

 

“ _ Jesus, _ ” Bucky swears, not giving a fuck if God hears and judges him for it. Steve doesn’t even hear him, wrapped up as he is in his own pleasure. Bucky envies him the ability to shut all this out, even as he has the best sex of his fucking life. How the hell is Steve still this tight?

 

It’s even better when Steve tenses up around him, as his body approaches orgasm, even though Bucky’s not touching his prick at all. It’s almost painful, in fact. Bucky grunts and groans, hoping Steve comes soon, because he’s not going to last much longer. 

 

He folds his body over Steve’s and kisses the back of his neck, and that’s all she wrote - Steve makes an inhuman noise and sprays spunk all over the couch. The tightening of his hole around Bucky’s dick sends him over the edge, too, though that’s never happened before, not simultaneously like that. He’d thought that kind of thing a myth, something that only happened once in a blue moon. Usually he has to finish the john off, or be finished off - if the john even gives a shit - as either top or bottom.

 

His legs feel boneless and wobbly as he tries not to collapse against Steve’s back. He wishes he could stay here forever and just wrap Steve up and never let him go again. But the sound of footsteps to his right force him to remember where he is and what’s happening to them. 

 

Gilligan grabs him by the neck and forces his mouth onto his cock. Bucky nearly gags, unprepared and in a post-orgasmic haze. He’s been ruined for everyone else, Bucky knows, now that he’s had Steve… but this guy in particular is gross as anything Bucky’s ever encountered, especially when compared to Steve. He smells funny and he tastes funny and he’s a creep besides. 

 

But for the money? It’s time to just grin and bear it.

 

***

 

“I don’t want to tell the rest of this story,” Bucky says in disgust. 

 

Steve reaches out and takes his metal hand, squeezes it. Bucky can only feel pressure, not real sensation, but it helps calm him anyway. 

 

“It’s okay,” his sweet Stevie says softly, more sober now. “I’ve got this.”

 

There’s a chorus of  _ awwws _ around the room, everyone seeming to understand how important it is for Steve to be the one to pick up here. It could possibly remind the former Winter Soldier of other past abuses. And for all of Bucky’s grumpy, hard-eyed assassin vibe, the team can see how soft and empathetic he’d been once upon a time. Steve is immensely proud of how far he’s come tonight, even though it was under the influence of Thor’s alcohol.  

 

“I tried not to listen, I really did. I wanted to just lie back and enjoy the feeling of Bucky… well, inside me.” He blushes, a dark red crawling down to his chest. Bucky wonders how he isn’t permanently blushing at this point. “I mean, I’d finally been taken by the one man I’d always wanted. The one man who really deserved what I had to give.”

 

They all make noises, ranging from sad to sweet. Thor’s got tears streaming from his eyes. He makes an attempt to wipe them, but in his drunken state, manages only to poke himself.

 

“But I knew that I had to come to Bucky’s rescue, that it was time to get this whole ordeal over with, so that we could go home, count our money, and lie back and relax together.”

 

***

 

Steve comes back from the heaven he’d been sent to by the sound of Bucky gagging. He immediately sits up, sees what’s happening, and decides to intervene, to help Bucky as best he can. It’s clear that Gilligan is near the end of his rope, ready to give up the ghost, and what better way to hurry that along than to help his fella out.

 

So he gets in there, pulls Gilligan’s cock to the side and starts sucking his balls. They’re hairy and sweaty, but Steve’s actually been with worse johns than this, cleanliness-wise at least, so he’s used to it. Well, maybe not used to it, but able to handle it better than Bucky, even though his gag reflex is much stronger than Bucky’s. 

 

Gilligan pushes them off quickly, his cock dripping precome onto the carpet and the couch. He’s close, so damn close to finishing. Steve’d hoped that they could finish him off before he decided to fuck them… or maybe that would’ve been worse, because he might’ve forced them to fuck around some more until he got hard again.

 

But shit, Bucky might’ve been ready to fight the guy if he did that. It would’ve been one of the only times Steve would be less inclined to do so than Bucky.

 

Gilligan’s looking between them now. It doesn’t take long before he makes his choice, eyeing Steve’s tiny form and soft cock and licking his lips. At the bar, it was Steve he’d been most interested in, so he’s not surprised, just resigned to his fate. Besides, he can still feel Bucky’s come leaking out of him, and he’s proud, in a way, that Bucky had claimed him today. Bucky’s the first man to be inside him tonight, to stretch him out, to take him. And the first john of the night had always mattered the most, even if that didn’t make sense.

 

Gilligan wordlessly gestures for Bucky to sit at the end of the couch, in front of Steve’s head, and make Steve suck his cock, even if it’s soft. Steve opens his mouth to take him in. He can taste himself on Bucky, but it’s not a big deal -

 

***

 

Bucky absolutely  _ cracks the fuck up. _

 

“What?” Steve asks, a little confused, a little aggravated at the interruption. “What’s so funny, jackass?”

 

“It’s just… you… oh my  _ god, _ ” Bucky says, barely able to get a word out, “You fucking  _ love _ that. There’s no ‘big deal’ about it. You wanna taste yourself on me all the time.”

 

Steve turns an absurd shade of red; he can feel his body heating up from the inside out. Bucky is… not wrong, necessarily, but to share that much information with everyone else?

 

He needs another fucking drink for this shit.

 

***

 

It’s not a big deal for Steve. It isn’t the first time he’s done it, and it won’t be the last. And Bucky’s dick is in his mouth, so that’s a positive in any book.

 

Gilligan doesn’t prep him again - not that he needs much, with Bucky’s come leaking out of him - just harshly pushes in and starts fucking. He’s not good at it - slow, clumsy, not much thrust, too small - Steve’s got this down to a science - and most importantly, he’s not Bucky. Steve’s ruined for other men now. 

 

***

 

“Hey, that was my line!”

 

“Screw you, Barnes, doesn’t make it any less true for me.”

 

“... You damn sap.”

 

***

 

Steve focuses on Bucky, on sucking ever-so-gently on his soft cock, not overstimulating him but keeping him nice and warm. Bucky, for his part, runs gentle fingers through Steve’s fine, silky hair. 

 

***

 

“Who’s the sap now?” Clint asks, and giggles… until Natasha smacks the back of his head. “... What?”

 

***

 

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for Gilligan to finish. Steve is naturally tight - 

 

***

 

“Blowin’ your own horn, much?” Tony asks, trying to raise an eyebrow, but only succeeding in squinting with one eye larger than the other. 

 

Steve shrugs because it’s the truth. 

 

“He’s not lying, Stark,” Bucky says, accepting a refill on his beverage. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, and the serum made him even tighter.”

 

Steve flushes again and gives Bucky a nasty look, but squeezes his hand in thanks, too.

 

***

 

Steve is naturally tight, even after being fucked, which is one of his saving graces, because he’s not pretty. Sure, he’s slight, looks like a perfect fairy… except for that nose and that jaw, which are far too sharp for him to be considered ‘pretty.’ 

 

His ass, though? Out of this fuckin’ world. And he has a reputation now. His suitors are more and more wealthy every time he goes out. He’s bragged about it to Bucky before, who’s been more than a little skeptical, but Steve ain’t the bragging type, and now Bucky knows the truth.

 

Bucky’s not able to get any more than half-hard during the time Gilligan is having his way with Steve, but that’s okay, because his regard and care for his best friend is obvious, and Steve appreciates him in an entirely new way now. Their friendship will be forever changed moving forward, but not in the way he’d feared when they first agreed to this. Strangely, Gilligan has brought them even closer than they were before. And it’s bizarre to be thanking Gilligan for anything but his wad of cash, but there they are.

 

Once Gilligan is done coming in Steve, he loses interest quickly. A little too quickly, in Steve’s opinion. That wrong feeling is back, stronger than ever. 

 

He sits up next to Bucky as Gilligan searches for their clothes. He tosses Steve’s to him, then Bucky’s a moment later. As they’re putting them on, Gilligan seems more and more nervous.

 

“Is everything okay?” Steve asks, wanting to get to the bottom of whatever’s going on with the man.

 

“Huh?” Gilligan asks, clearly distracted by his thoughts. “Oh! Yes, of course. Just, you know, post-orgasm clarity and all.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I need to, uh… go and get the rest of your money. The bonus! I promised you a bonus for giving a good suckjob, right?”

 

Bucky’s eyes are wide and cautious at the apparent excitement. “Uh, yeah. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

 

“Of course I did. Obviously. Well… I’ll be right back.”

 

When he’s gone, Steve turns to Bucky with a frown. “What the heck was that about?”

 

“No idea, but I think we need to get out of here soon.”

 

Steve wholeheartedly agrees. 

 

Once their clothes are back on, they have to make a decision. Do they wait for their benefactor? Do they book it out of there? It’s only then that Steve realizes they’ve only gotten half the money. And it might still be a lot, but they’ve earned the full amount. 

 

“Alright. We wait for a few minutes. But we’ve gotten enough to make it worth it, I’d say,” Bucky says. He won’t look Steve in the face, skin more flushed than Steve’s ever seen it, like he’d been out in the sun too long. He knows, intuitively, that Bucky doesn’t mean the money. It warms his heart.

 

Steve sits on the couch to wait, but Bucky’s nervous. And when Bucky’s nervous, he can’t sit still. He walks around the room, poking his nose into drawers and stacks of paper. And that’s when he notices it - a business card.

 

A policeman’s business card.

 

With the name of a certain cop who is known around these parts for taking in young queers and making them disappear.

 

“ _ Shit _ ,” Bucky says, instantly panicked. 

 

“What?”

 

“We gotta go.  _ Now _ .”

 

Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. He jumps up, ready to book it out of there, but before they can get to the door, Gilligan returns. 

 

“Ah, boys! Where are you off to in such a hurry? Come, now. Let’s… count the money. Make sure I’ve paid you properly for your services.”

 

Steve can practically smell the lie on him.

 

***

 

“That was ball sweat. You could smell  _ ball sweat _ ,” Bucky says with an evil grin.

 

“Shut up, Barnes.”

 

***

 

Steve looks at Bucky, panic in his wide eyes. If Bucky gets caught, he’ll be okay. He’s young, tough - they wouldn’t hurt him because the country needs able-bodied young men like him. Steve, on the other hand, would be beaten, maybe killed. Hell, he’s already treated like a fairy most of the time anyway. If it gets out that he’s been with a man, to the police or to the neighborhood, he’s probably a dead man. Bucky’s eyes tell the same story - he knows the score. 

 

What are they going to do?

 

Gilligan’s still standing in their way, sweating now. Even more nervous than before. He looks at his wristwatch and straightens up, a little bit more confident. Steve supposes that means the police will be here soon. Gilligan will take the money he’s already given them, and then get a kickback from the cops, before doing the same thing to another young man. 

 

Suddenly, Steve is enraged. How dare this asshole do this to them? All they’re trying to do is pay rent. And if they’re in love with each other, secretly or otherwise, that’s nobody’s business but theirs. Nothing has ever happened between them before tonight anyway. 

 

Bucky’s glaring daggers at the guy, who shrugs and sighs. “No use pretending any longer. The cops will be here any minute. Time’s up for you perverts. Living in sin, god, you should be ashamed of yourselves.”

 

Bucky’s jaw drops in outraged confusion. It’s a weird look on him.

 

***

 

“Hey! I resent that. Your  _ face _ is weird.”

 

“Shut  _ up _ , Barnes.”

 

“I’m tellin’ the story now. You just nurse your drink and keep your mouth shut.”

 

Steve reaches for another glass and downs a big gulp of it right off the bat, then Bucky grabs it from him, causing Steve to pout piteously. 

 

“Nurse, Steve, I said  _ nurse _ .”

 

“My metabolism is fast, Bucky. C’mon, I gotta keep drinking.”

 

“Not that fast. Natasha, will you take this from him? Babysit him while I tell the story. Do not give it back until he can prove he can drink responsibly.”

 

Steve gives him his own look of confused outrage. “‘Drinking’ and ‘responsibly’ don’t go in the same sentence together anyway.”

 

Bucky closes his eyes, counts to ten, then continues the story, trusting Natasha to keep Steve out of trouble.

 

***

 

This is bullshit. It’s the most hypocritical thing he’s ever heard in his life. 

 

He’s too busy staring at the guy to register the noise outside. Steve, however, smacks the back of his head, pulling him from his blank state. It’s the police, and they’re maybe thirty seconds from entering the apartment and arresting the two of them.

 

“Back door!” Steve yells, already running around the corner, through the bedroom and out the fire escape. “C’mon, Buck!”

 

Bucky turns and takes off like a bat out of hell, but Gilligan is faster, having anticipated this. His bulk is impressive as Bucky runs smack into him. The guy picks him up by his collar and lifts him like he weighs nothing. Bucky’s legs flail uselessly in the air; he feels his throat constrict from the pressure. A wave of dizziness hits him. He’s only seconds from passing out. If anything’s going to happen, it has to happen now.

 

And Steve, the scrappy kid -

 

***

 

“Kid? After I’d just sucked your dick? Bucky, you ass - “

 

“Shut up, Rogers.”

 

***

 

Steve comes to the rescue, Bucky’s little knight in shining armor. 

 

***

 

“ _ Little _ knight? C’mon now.”

 

Bucky throws up his hands in exasperation. “So you weren’t a kid, but you sure as shit were little. Face the facts, Steve.”

 

Steve pouts and reaches for his drink. Natasha, half-amused and half-sympathetic, lets him have it.

 

***

 

Steve throws a wicked punch at the back of Gilligan’s head, who drops Bucky like a sack of potatoes. Bucky’s on the ground coughing as Steve starts kicking the man, who had fallen to the ground in pain. But Steve’s small, and Gilligan’s obviously got fighting experience, and he easily grabs Steve’s foot and pulls him to the ground with him. 

 

Bucky knows this is his chance, the last chance he’ll have to save them. The cops are chatting outside, only a few seconds from entering the place. 

 

In a moment of genius, he runs to the kitchen cupboard and pulls out a cast-iron pan. The side of Gilligan’s head and face make an odd sound when it hits him square-on, a sort-of  _ smack-crunch _ noise that would’ve made Bucky feel nauseous if he hadn’t been chock-full of adrenaline. 

 

Gilligan, with one final pull, grabs hold of Bucky and knocks him off-balance. As he falls backward, Bucky tosses the pan to Steve who, miraculously, catches it, and in one smooth motion, raises it over his head and finishes crushing Gilligan’s skull. 

 

Steve’s panting, staring with wide, disbelieving eyes, until Bucky grabs his wrist and yanks him in the direction of the fire escape. Bucky can hear the police entering the apartment a few seconds after they’ve gotten outside. He’s never seen Steve run so fast as he does making his way down the single flight to freedom. 

 

The alley behind the little tenement is slick and piled with trash, but they’re running for their lives, and they make it to the other end in record time regardless. The next ten minutes pass by in a blur, until they get to the bar where they met Gilligan, out of breath and terrified. Thankfully, the bartender, Jimmy, lets them in, even though it’s past closing time. He takes in the state of them and quickly bolts the door closed. 

 

“Tell me,” he says, soothing but firm.

 

“Gilligan,” Bucky responds shakily. “Middle-age, a little chubby? He picked us up tonight.”

 

“Yeah, I saw,” Jimmy says grimly. “Seen him around here before, too. He rape you?”

 

“No,” Steve says, “we agreed to what happened.” He risks a glance at Bucky, who catches the look and holds it for a few seconds before Steve sighs. “He called the cops on us afterward.”

 

“Shit. Well that ain’t good. I mean, the cops know we’re here, and I dunno what deal the owner has with ‘em, but they ain’t never bothered us. But if they’re with this Gilligan fella, how can we protect you guys? What if there’s others like him?”

 

Bucky isn’t sure what to say to that, because while Gilligan’s no longer a threat, there might be others. Probably  _ will _ be others once the police discover their informant dead. 

 

“We might not be able to bar him from coming in, if he’s got a deal with the cops. He could turn us over to someone less understanding who’ll bring the whole place down around our ears.”

 

Steve and Bucky exchange another glance. “Uh… that’s not gonna be a problem,” Bucky says with a wince. 

 

“We killed him,” Steve says outright.

 

***

 

“You fucking idiot. I still can’t believe you actually admitted that.”

 

“We did the right thing, Buck. Self-defense is an acceptable reason to hurt someone. We’re not cold-blooded killers.”

 

Bucky stares at him like he’s crazy. “No shit, Sherlock, but other people might not see it that way. I was never worried about what you thought about it. It was everyone else.”

 

“But it was Jimmy. And he understood, didn’t he?”

 

“But what if he hadn’t? We’d have been in even deeper shit.”

 

“Buck,” Steve says with an air of exasperation. “I knew what I was doing.”

 

Bucky breathes in deep, then downs his drink in one go. “Fuck me, you’re a pain in the ass, Steve. I was so mad at you I coulda spit, or I would’ve been if I wasn’t terrified.”

 

“Anyway,” Steve continues, ignoring everyone’s amused stares.

 

***

 

Jimmy closes his eyes while Bucky glares daggers at Steve. He keeps his head held high, though, because they’d done what they had to do in order to survive. His conscience is clean, and Bucky’s had better be, too.

 

“Did anyone see you?” Jimmy asks.

 

“No, sir. Not that we’re aware of.”

 

“Well… I’ll back your alibi if you wanna say you were here all night. Not that that’d help you if the cops decided to take this place down, but it’s what I can give ya. And you’ll be spending the night here, in one of the bunks in the back. Who knows who might be waitin’ out there, lookin’ for that guy’s killer?”

 

There’s a frown on Bucky’s face, making that little dimple between his eyebrows pop. Steve’s heart is suddenly so full of love it hurts. 

 

“We’ll do that,” he says softly, still looking at Bucky. “It’ll keep us safe, Buck.”

 

Bucky’s clear grey eyes meet his and he nods once, shortly. 

 

“Great. Let me show you to the room.”

 

It’s a little thing, four walls, a ceiling, and two bunk beds, nothing else. Not much, but it’s what’s on offer, and they both know it’s the right call to accept it. 

 

Once they’re tucked in and the lights are out, Steve listens to Bucky breathe. He’s on the top bunk, Steve below him. Steve can still remember the way Bucky’s body felt pressed against his back, all hard, sinewy muscle and hot breath. It makes him shiver, not with pleasure now, but with need nonetheless. The night’s events hadn’t truly registered yet, but they will, and suddenly, Steve doesn’t want to be alone. 

 

“Buck?” he asks hesitantly.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I was wondering… maybe you’d, I dunno, come down here? Maybe stay with me?” His voice sounds so unsure, so scared. So unlike him. 

 

“All you had to do was ask, Steve.”

 

The springs squeak as Bucky climbs down. He crawls into bed and wraps himself around his best friend, back to chest. 

 

“That was so fucked up, Steve,” Bucky whispers in his ear. “We killed someone today.”

 

“I know. But you know we had to.”

 

Bucky shudders hard enough to jostle Steve. “Did you hear the crack his head made when his skull caved in? Steve,  _ we _ did that. Me and you.”

 

“Yeah, but we also saved each other,” Steve says quietly. 

 

***

 

“How many times have we saved each other by now?” Bucky asks him softly.

 

“Too many to count.”

 

Thor starts crying again.

 

***

 

They’re quiet after that. It takes a while, but Steve eventually falls asleep with Bucky’s arms wrapped tight around him. How could he not? It’s the safest place he could possibly be.

 

***

 

Thor starts  _ bawling. _

 

***

 

It’s not until the next morning when they discover how badly Gilligan had fucked them, in the less-than-literal sense.

 

Bucky wakes first and slowly climbs out of bed, trying not to wake Steve, but it doesn’t work. Steve had always slept light, except for when he was sick. He feels slow, like syrup, turning away from the wall to watch Bucky stretch. He’s still in his briefs from the night before, both of them having removed their clothing, and it’s a sight Steve wants to wake up to every morning. The question is, does Bucky feel the same way?

 

Steve was sure of it yesterday, lying on Gilligan’s couch with his cock in his best friend’s mouth, but in the light of day, he’s a lot less certain. And he wants to ask, it’s just that hiding his feelings away had been a habit for so long, he’s not sure how to go about it.

 

He stops worrying about it when Bucky digs through his pants pockets, alarm written all over his face. 

 

“What?” Steve asks, “Is there some way they can track us?” He’s not even sure how that would work, what Bucky might have in his pocket to cause that particular problem, but it turns out not to be what’s in his pocket, but rather what’s  _ not _ in his pocket.

 

Alarm turns to rage as Bucky realizes they’ve been had. 

 

“Bastard took the money back when he grabbed my pants,” he grounds out, before kicking the wall as hard as he can. He grimaces in pain and jumps up and down, holding his possibly broken toe, but then starts grabbing the remainder of the clothes and throwing them against the wall. “Sonofa _ bitch _ !” he yells. Bucky’s flailing about like a madman, hampering approach, but Steve’s undeterred. 

 

“Bucky,” he says, rising from the bed and gingerly reaching an arm out. “Buck, stop.” When his best friend doesn’t pay him any attention, only getting more agitated by the second, Steve yells. “Bucky,  _ stop!” _

 

Like a wild horse brought to heel, Bucky listens. Steve watches his flared nostrils and wild eyes, congratulating himself on the comparison. 

 

When Steve is certain his best friend isn’t going to knock him to the floor, either accidentally or on purpose, he approaches. Then, with a confidence he doesn’t feel, he pulls Bucky’s head down by the neck and kisses the daylights out of him, until neither of them can breathe.

 

They rest their foreheads together as they catch their breath. During the kiss, Bucky had wrapped his arms around Steve’s back and pulled him close. He smells like morning breath and cigarette smoke from the day before, but it’s comforting to Steve all the same. 

 

Bucky finally pulls back, and Steve lets his arms drop to the sides. 

 

“I hope that wasn’t out of line. I just… really, honestly, don’t care whether he paid us or not. I’d rather he did, but that wasn’t what I was ever going to get out of yesterday.”

 

Steve doesn’t have to explain; Bucky’s eyes communicate quite clearly that he understands, and that it was the same for him, too. A little more invested in the money, perhaps, but the same nonetheless.

 

Bucky makes an aborted move in his direction before stopping himself. Steve cocks his head to the side, curious. 

 

“I want to, Steve. God, you don’t know how much. But what happened yesterday? I need time. We need to get out of this business first. Come up with a plan. That was so close, Steve, we were  _ so close _ to getting captured or killed.” He runs a shaking hand through his now-greasy hair. It’s a mess, all the product having dried up, leaving him with an epic case of bed-head. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever loved Bucky more.

 

He sighs, disappointed but also, somehow, relieved. “I get it.” And he does. This kind of work isn’t going to stop their budding relationship - or maybe they had always been in one anyway - but it would taint it if they started sleeping together now. Bucky’s right about needing to process this whole thing, too. Sex might only complicate that.

 

“Okay. That’s good,” Bucky says, biting down on what he really wants to say. He’s near to bursting with it, but Steve’s not going to push. They’ll get there when they get there. 

 

“C’mon,” he says with a small smile. “Let’s go home.”

 

***

 

“Then the very next night, I met that rich guy who showed me the time of my life. Gloryholes, my God.” Steve shakes his head, a strangely fond expression on his face. “He paid me so much money, Bucky was able to take a few days off work. He went down to the docks, got a good job, and that was it. I never had to sell my body again.”

 

“Okay, but which side of the gloryhole were you on?”

 

“Clint, if you don’t shut up, I will castrate you,” Natasha says conversationally. “But seriously, which side?”

 

Steve’s been flushed from alcohol and embarrassment so many times tonight, it seems like his body’s over the whole thing. “That is not a secret I’m going to share.”

 

“But I wanna  _ know, _ ” Clint whines, pouting at Nat when she smacks his shoulder again.

 

“You don’t get to know every secret, Barton,” Bucky scoffs. “Unless you want to know how Steve and I pleasure each other. Hint: It’s a lot kinkier than it used to be.”

 

Bruce frowns. “Was that not kinky? Am I really that vanilla?” he implores, glancing around the room looking for backup.

 

“In a way,” Nat explains. “There are many different ways to explore kink.”

 

“Are we really talking about this?” Steve asks. “I said  _ no _ . And Bucky, you’d better knock it off, too.”

 

Bucky just hands him another glass of poison, which he nurses amicably. 

 

“So you didn’t get together until a year after that?” Bruce continues, changing the subject. “Even though you knew how the other felt?”

 

“You remember the first time you killed someone?” Steve asks softly. “Even if there was good reason for it, it hits you like a bullet. And we’d done it together. The shame hung over us, both about that and having to sell our bodies. But it was only about seven months until we got ourselves together and accepted our relationship for what it was. And I slept with him curled around me every night,” he adds, smiling at Bucky with a gentle upturn of his lips. “The comfort was the main thing.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Stark says with a leer. “I’m sure you didn’t appreciate his morning boner at all.”

 

“I never said that,” Steve responds slyly as his head lolls to the side. Bucky shakes his head and grabs Steve’s hand. 

 

“It’s time to take this one to bed.” 

 

Everyone protests, though neither of them understands why. They’ve heard the whole story. Not much more to tell. 

 

“Drink your water!” Bucky adds as he leads Steve from the room, gently guiding him to the elevator. “You too, sunshine,” he says to Steve, kissing his temple.

 

“Mmm. Love you, Buck.”

 

“Love you too, sweetheart. Hope you don’t regret telling the tale in the morning, though.”

 

“I won’t. Promise.”

 

***

 

They’re all hungover the next day, of course, but there’s not a single regret among them, Steve included. Nearly eighty years later, the two of them had gotten it off their chest. Not even the Commandos had known about That Thing From ‘37. 

 

That’s how they know they’re with family now.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  



End file.
